Gasp!

Yesterday morning as I was sitting at my desk I had a few moments where I thought..."Hmm, that pain in my chest shouldn't be there should it?" I ignored it for a while but as it got worse I went into my bosses office to let her know about it. Chances are I will never get over the idea of "If something's wrong, tell an adult." She went to the store and bought me some Aspirin which was really nice and I took it and felt better. Later on though, the tightening feeling in my chest became more of a little stabby feeling in my heart. I went back into my bosses office and said, "You know what...I think I'm going to go home...cause this can't be good." She said of course that was ok and I got back to my desk to gather my things and sort of stopped breathing a little. She came over and saw me right as I caught my breath and then decided that she would drive me home. That was so nice.
I was mostly ok on the ride home but as soon as I walked in the door I knew there was trouble.
Let me interrupt this story by telling you that I do indeed have asthma but I get asthma attacks so rarely that, genius I am, I never carry my inhaler around with me. In fact, it's safe to say that at most times I have no clue as to the whereabouts of my inhaler at all. But as I walked in the door I knew rigt away that this called for some inhaler action. Fine. No Problem.
Wrong. Big problem.
When you are having an asthma attack and you think that the only thing that will help you is your inhaler and then you can't find your inhaler, it's a bit like what I imagine falling through the ice on a frozen lake might feel like. There is only one way out and you can't find it, and you can't breathe. So you begin to panic. I ransacked the basement, my bathroom, my room. Tears started popping straight out of my eyes. I was making this horrible wheezy sound. I tried once to call for my roomate but couldn't get my voice. I have to say right now, that this was quite possibly one of the most terrifying moments of my life. Eventually i was kneeling on the floor, resigned to dying, when I thought of one last place that inhaler could be...inside a purse I hadn't used in over a year.
There it was.
I used it and lied down and felt much better, although still not great. I realized that it was almost empty and also kind of old. So it wasn't really helpful. I called my mom and luckily she had a prescription for the same kind of inhaler so I am getting a new one today. I called Kristen to make sure she could drive me to the emergency room if it happened again. Then I ate some spaghetti and went to bed.
It was F-ING scary. I feel better today although I'm going to take it easy.
The moral of this story is not to make you feel sorry for me or to tell you a "have pity on me" story. The moral is two fold...
1. Always carry your inhaler with you.
2. I'm quitting smoking. For real this time.